


The Devil You Know

by whovian91011



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-11-03 16:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovian91011/pseuds/whovian91011
Summary: Fielding phone calls from Prada, Gucci, Chanel, and countless other designers, ordering the proper supplies and agenda for the twins’ school trip to Europe, meeting with up and coming designers to assess their competence before promising a meeting with Miranda, and all the while balancing other Miranda’s needs as her personal assistant, and all on her first day no less!Betty Cooper is Miranda Priestley’s new assistant, and it’s just as hellish as she could imagine. Within two days, she’s about to quit when she meets a certain Lodge, who makes it her mission to see that Betty Cooper survives her first year at Runway in one piece. Or is that her only motivation in coaching the shy blonde?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had this idea in my head for a while, so I decided why not do something with it? Hope you guys enjoy!

Styling her hair in her traditional high pony, Betty Cooper puffed out her cheeks and ran her hands over her shirt nervously. 

Gazing at her outfit in the mirror, she knew she looked appropriate enough, though there was no way she could ever meet up to par with the girls at Runway. She had taken note of them well when she had first set foot in the stylish, high-end building, noting every skintight skirt, expensive silk blouse, and spiked heel shoes with increasing anxiety. Even with her mom’s – rather intense – support, she knew she wasn’t exactly “it girl” material, but at least she put in the effort.

Dressed in a black and white stripe ribbed Merino wool sweater by Anthony Thomas Melillo (whoever the hell that was), a pair of BOSS (as in Hugo?) grey wool trousers, and a pair of low heeled black Calvin Klein (finally, a name she recognized!) pumps, she adjusted the strap of her nonbrand name bag on her shoulder, which she would soon discover was sacrilegious in the world of fashion, and hurried out the front door to make it to Starbucks. 

No, it wasn’t for her own coffee fix. Emily, Miranda’s senior assistant, had always texted her with a series of requests for Betty to follow, Miranda’s Starbucks coffee order being the top of the list. In a panic, she had nearly forgotten to stuff her Poptart into her purse on her way out the door.

It was a good thing she had already been up when the texts had started coming in, being unable to sleep from impending first day on the job nerves – though she would seriously regret it as the day wore on, as she would soon discover.

It was 6:15 A.M. by the time she arrived at Starbucks, and she needed to have Miranda’s coffee order on her desk by 6:35 at the latest when she arrived at her office fifteen minutes early the building officially opened. Betty took one look at the line and all but whimpered in frustration, tapping her foot incessantly as the line drug on. By the time she made it to the barista, her iPhone clock read 6:25. According to her Google map directions, it was a solid fifteen minute walk from the Starbucks to Runway. 

She had heard horror stories of what this woman was capable of, but then she also knew very well hat many of her former assistants went on to do great things from working their way through different departments at Runaway to working at different fashion magazines altogether. The last assistant she’d had apparently gone on to work for The New Yorker, despite a very public firing. Or was it the New York Times?

“Good morning,” Betty greeted the barista with a warm smile in spite of feeling frazzled. Fishing out her phone, she scrolled through the texts, she remarked, “I’m sorry. I’m looking for my boss’s order. Her name’s Miranda Priestly and…”

She didn’t even finish her sentence when the barista lit up. “Oh! Miranda Priestly? We just love her here! We’ll get you her order right away, Ms…?

“Cooper. Betty Cooper. And thank you so much!”

Grateful for small miracles, she ordered a coffee for herself as well before stepping to the side to wait with the other tired looking masses. It was amazing how much caffeine could improve one’s day. 

She was struggling with shoving her phone inside her tiny purse when she abruptly turned and accidentally walked straight into a petite figure. It didn’t fully register until she heard the sound of papers fluttering to the ground.

Betty gasped, mortified as she saw stacks of white paper spread across the tiled floor. “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Without even looking at the person she had run into, she immediately squatted to the ground and began gathering papers as neatly as she could. Hearing the feminine sigh of annoyance made her cringe in embarrassment. “I promise, I’m not ordinarily this clumsy. First day of work jitters.”

And normally, she never chatted this much either, except on the occasions of when she was nervous. And boy was she nervous. At least, she wasn’t until she glanced up to see the person squatting down to join her to gather the papers. Her mouth went completely dry.

“Don’t worry about it,” the raven haired woman assured her. “First days are always the worst.”

It wasn’t until Betty locked eyes with the woman did she feel her cheeks heat up. Whatever annoyance that might have been in the other woman’s expression had quickly faded into a curious expression the instant she’d set sight on her face. The heat in Betty’s cheeks worsened, making her think she resembled more of a tomato than an actual person anymore, though she heard red was making a comeback as being the new black.

Betty chuckled nervously as they finished gathering the papers. “I haven’t set first into the office yet, and I’m already messing up. I’m hoping this isn’t some sort of sign.”

The woman’s laugh was rich and sultry, similar to those old black and white movie leading lady laughs that never ceased to charm and ensnare the audience. Betty was definitely captured by it. “I prefer to think of it more positively than that. There’s nowhere to go but up from here, I believe that’s how that saying goes.”

Relaxing, Betty asked with a growing grin, “Is it a saying?”

The raven haired woman shrugged, her smile widening. “If it isn’t, it is now.”

“Betty Cooper!”

The barista calling out her name snapped her back into reality. She was about to retrieve her order when she looked over at the other woman apologetically. “It’s my boss’s order. I have to make sure I get to her on time.” Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, she smiled. “It was nice meeting you. Or bumping into you rather.”

Realizing she still had the other woman’s papers, she held them out to her foolishly. The raven haired woman smiled gratefully and accepted them, but when she did, their fingers brushed. Betty barely bit back a gasp at the spark of such a simple touch, and she knew far better than to believe it was just static electricity.

If the other woman had felt it, she gave no indication. Smiling genuinely, she remarked, “It was lovely running into you, too, Betty Cooper. I enjoyed our meet cute.”

Startled into a laugh, the blonde watched, mesmerized as the raven haired woman’s gaze lingered on her as she walked past her towards the exit. Before she could stop herself, she called out to her, “It’s not fair for you to know my name when I don’t know yours.”

She looked over her shoulder with a sultry little smile. “Veronica,” she remarked before strutting out the door in her expensive designer heels.

“Betty Cooper!”

“Oh, shit!” Betty murmured, rushing to the pickup counter to grab both orders. She glanced at the wall clock and blanched when she looked at the time. 6:45 A.M.

Hell, she was late. On her first day.


	2. Chapter 2

It was incredible how much foreshadowing could come from a cup of coffee.

Betty had managed to cut down the fifteen minute walk from Starbucks to Runaway to seven and a half minutes by breaking out into a run. Thank God she had been on the track team in high school, otherwise she would have been out of breath and sweating by the time she reached Runway. However, next time, it she would stuff a pair of Nike running shoes into her purse because running in pumps wasn’t the most practical situation in the world.

By the time she made it to the joint office she shared with Miranda’s other assistant, Emily was pacing the floor, gazing at her watch. The moment she stepped into the office the redhead’s gaze sharpened on her with disapproval. Betty suddenly felt a centimeter tell.

“Where on earth of you been?!” Emily demanded shrilly. “Miranda arrived at 6:00 A.M., and where was her coffee?! She wasn’t happy at all.”

Betty blinked. “But… I thought you said she came to the office fifteen minute before seven…”

Emily scoffed. “She came early because she had a 6:15 meeting set up at the last minute yesterday evening. Keep up, Cooper!” She grabbed a stack of papers and handed them to her. “Here are some papers for you to fill out, along with your Runway card, which serves as your key and gym membership along with your lunch card. You’ll need it to get in and out of the building. Before you even think about doing the paperwork, get Miranda a fresh cup of coffee. And make sure you get back in time before 7:30, will you?”

Betty set the paperwork on her desk along with the cups of coffee before setting out once more to Starbucks for Miranda’s order. With a stroke of genius, she whipped out her iPhone and called the local Starbucks’ number to place in her order. All she had to do was say it was for Miranda, and the manager was more than happy to accommodate her. They promised to have the coffee ready for her as soon as she arrived.

She returned to Runway, coffee in hand, and placed it on Miranda’s desk by 7:15 A.M. Sighing with relief, the blonde went to her desk before Emily shook her head, holding up a finger as she continued her call to someone in marketing. Betty fought the urge to squint in annoyance.

As soon as she hung up, Emily turned to her. “You’ll need to pick up Miranda’s breakfast from Jean Georges. Just ask for her usual order, and they’ll do the rest.”

Betty paused. Her parents had eaten at Jean Georges one year for their anniversary since Alice Cooper had been dying to dine there, but they’d had a hell of a time getting a reservation. When she voiced her concern, Emily rolled her eyes and explained to her that Miranda knew the head chef of the restaurant personally so there shouldn’t be a problem with getting her breakfast.

After placing the call, the blonde did a quick Google map search for the restaurant to jog her memory and headed out to pick up Miranda’s breakfast order. She expected for one of the wait staff to pass it along to her, but what she hadn’t anticipated was to receive the carefully packaged breakfast from Jean-Georges Vongerichten, the owner of the restaurant himself. To say she was a little more than starstruck was an understatement. And what shocked her even more was the fact the man was very kind and charming to her, which went against the grain of the idea that all head chefs were tyrannical dictators – though she didn’t have to work with him or under him, she reminded herself as she returned to the office.

Returning with minutes to spare, Betty grabbed the plates and silverware from the cupboard that Emily pointed out to her and slipped inside Miranda’s office. She noticed the Starbucks coffee was missing, which could only mean the boss had returned for something and picked up her coffee, seeing as how her trash bin remained empty. 

She plated her breakfast with care, paying special attention to make sure that the pristinely white and probably expensive China remained spotless as she placed the egg white omelet with fresh herbs onto the plate along with smoked organic turkey bacon, and slices of ham. The croissant and choices of appropriate condiments sat on a smaller plate, the spoon, fork, and knife beside her larger plate on top of a carefully folded napkin. Betty Cooper might not have been part of the top 1% rich, but she was a Cooper after all. Alice Cooper had instilled in both her daughters the importance of table arrangement and table manners and everything that a proper upper middle class family ought to know.

Only Betty knew she was far from the perfect daughter, at least in her mother’s eyes. Choosing friends her parents deemed inappropriate remained top billing, that and the fact she had dated a boy from the wrong side of the tracks for the majority of high school, Jughead Jones. When they broke up after graduation, she had thought her mother was going to throw a party she had been so elated. 

Then during her freshman year of college, Betty realized she was bisexual, and well, you could imagine how well that had gone over in the Cooper household. Over time, namely three years, her parents had come to terms with it, though clearly they weren’t happy about it. That was mostly on Alice Cooper. She suspected her father actually preferred her to date women, seeing as no man would ever be good enough for his little girl. She had always been close to her father, so when he had come to embrace who she was, she had been overwhelmed with gratitude and relief.

Her relationship with her mother, however, had yet to recover. Sure, she and her mom loved each other, but there was a distance now that hadn’t really been there before. Once again her older sister Polly became the standard to which her mother measured her up to, something the younger blonde had always resented yet kept quiet about, which was one of the many reasons she preferred to stay in the city rather than visit her parents in Riverdale on the weekends, like Polly always did.

Betty had only just sat at her desk when in walked in Miranda Priestly herself, dressed to the nines as any CEO of a fashion empire should. She snuck a quick glance at her computer clock and noted it was precisely 8:00 A.M. She withheld a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she had done something right today.

Before she could get the words out to greet her boss, Miranda shrugged off her expensive coat and purse and unceremoniously dumped them onto her desk before heading straight into her office and closing the door. When Betty had yet to move, Emily pointed aggressively towards the coatrack, and Betty scurried around the desk to handle the coat and purse, both of which probably cost more than her college tuition.

Over the next hour, while Miranda was eating her breakfast and taking conference calls, Emily showed her how to work Runway’s computer system, where to post messages on The Bulletin, how to keep them organized, etc. Emily was just explaining to her how to sort by the importance of calls when a distinct call for “Emily” silenced them.

“She means you,” Emily mentioned as she headed to her desk.

“My name’s Betty.”

“She still means you.” Emily made a dismissive motion with her hand, and Betty was off.

Stepping into Miranda’s office with the woman present was more than a little nerve wracking. Unconsciously, Betty smoothed down the edges of her sweater, heart pounding in her throat, before taking another step inside. 

Miranda had yet to look at her, and she was already this nervous. She had heard some rather interesting things about her, how the woman ruled with an ironclad fist. She was a powerful woman in the world of fashion, something that was to be admired and revered, but from the rumors of how she treated her personal assistants, Betty knew her time at Runway would be challenging.

Without glancing up from her work, Miranda remarked, “Have a seat, Emily.”

It took a few seconds to process her request, but Betty sat in the chair directly across from Miranda’s desk, biting back the urge to correct her. 

After a few more seconds of perusing her magazine, Miranda finally looked at her. The brief glance at her appearance was brief and disinterested before speaking again, “I need you to prepare an agenda for the twins’ senior spring trip to Europe. Make the appropriate arrangements and be sure to get everything that they’ll need.”

She didn’t say anything more, providing her with little to no details beyond that. Betty remained quiet, deciding to ask her questions after Miranda finished. Surely, the woman would answer any and all of her questions to give her more information to go on.

“Before you do that, however, I need you to order a skirt for me,” she continued in that sophisticated, cool manner of hers. “I have an important dinner with the Lodges tomorrow evening, and important dinners require fresh, new ensembles.”

She raised her eyebrows a little, pausing as if she were waiting Betty’s response. When Betty didn’t comment, she asked slowly, “You do know who the Lodges are, don’t you, Emily?”

“I…” Betty faltered, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I don’t believe I have, but I’ll make sure to do my research.” Of course, she highly doubted she would. What did she care about the people Miranda would be dining with?

“Be sure to do that,” Miranda remarked condescendingly. “Considering we’re in the process of a potential merger between Runway and Lodge Industries, you should know your information. Call and confirm the reservation once you’re finished with the skirt. That’s all.”

“What kind of skirt would you like?” Betty asked quickly right as Miranda dismissed her and immediately knew she made a mistake when the woman peered over her glasses at her.

Miranda huffed, making a dismissive gesture. “You should know this by now. That’s all.”

“Yes, Miranda,” Betty murmured, rising from her seat. So getting more information about the twins’ senior spring trip was out of the question, let alone everything else Miranda wanted her to do.

Closing the door behind her, Betty returned to her desk and sighed heavily. At Emily’s sharp look, she shared everything about the meeting, including her dismay and growing concern over the lack of details. 

Emily brushed her comments aside and actually helped her in tracking down a skirt for Miranda. It took far longer than it should have. If they had been given guidelines to follow, it would have only taken a matter of minutes, but seeing as they didn’t have any, it was up to fate. Finally, they chose a tasteful but expensive skirt by Alexander McQueen, straight from his soon to be released collection. They had to pay an arm and a leg to have it shipped by the end of the day, but when it arrived, Betty could finally breathe a little easier.

When the beautiful ivory skirt was presented to Miranda later in the afternoon, their boss informed them she already found a skirt and requested for them to send it back. When Betty went to protest over the amount of money that would take, Emily kicked her chin behind the desk and promised Miranda they would see it through.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, Betty was ready to go home and crash into her bed face first. She had thirty more minutes on the clock before she could finally call it a day. But first she had to run down to the beauty department to pick up some samples that were to be decided on which would make the final cut for the next issue of Runway magazine. 

It was there when Betty met Toni Topaz, who introduced herself as one of the managers in the beauty department. The two hit it off right away. It was very interesting that Toni worked in the beauty department or at Runway at all, considering her fashion choices didn’t necessarily conform to the rest of the Clackers’ sleek, conventional styles, with her pink ombre hair and punk-almost grunge clothing style – though she highly doubted the look didn’t come cheap. It was Runway after all.

After talking for a while and Toni providing a sympathetic ear to Betty’s mild venting, Toni took it upon herself to show her around the inner workings of the mega million dollar corporation. Betty met so many new faces and learned so many names in passing between departments she knew she would never remember them all. She did meet Nigel and found herself drawn to him instantly, although she had the sense he was silently assessing her fashion choices in one quick, thorough glance. 

Betty already decided that out of all the women she’s met, she liked Toni best. She didn’t judge her the way the other Clackers did, sizing her up as if she were competition or simply dismissing her because she didn’t appear to fit the Runway mold. It got on her nerves, but she knew she had to deal with it. One year was all she needed. Betty Cooper could survive one year, couldn’t she?

“I know we just met,” Toni remarked as she walked Betty back to her office, samples in hand, “but you should totally stop by when you get off. We have this amazing spa for employees, and I could totally go for a facial or some other pampering. I think you could go for some, too, because… oh you know.” The two women shared a laugh. “Even if your card hasn’t been confirmed yet, just come straight down and find me. We can head down together, though we’ll have to wait for some people to join us. My girlfriend Cheryl and another friend of ours would be joining us for some free pampering. Oh the perks of being a Runway employee.”

The last comment was said quite dryly, which made Betty smile. It was incredibly rare to not find someone around here that profusely oozed out desperate vibes of “I love my job!” to intense levels, almost as if they feared they were being overheard by Runway management. Toni’s dry humor was honestly refreshing.

By the time they returned to Betty and Emily’s office, it was a little after 5:30, and after Betty brought in the samples, she was free to go. Instead going straight home as she planned, the blonde found herself following Toni back to the beauty department for a night of pampering and relaxation. If today was any indication of her future here, Betty decided she needed to seize any opportunity of leisure she could get.

While Toni excused herself to go meet up with her girlfriend Cheryl down at the lobby, Betty took one look in the mirror and almost did a double take at her reflection. Her hair was in a disarray and her makeup smeared but only slightly. Grimacing, she reached for the nearest brush to calm down her blonde locks and slipped it back up into a ponytail. As for the makeup, she found a blotter and tried her hand at blending it back into something more presentable. At this point, she could only hope for the best.

Roughly ten minutes later, Betty heard Toni’s voice coming around the corner and turned to meet her and her friends. Toni smiled. “Ladies, this is Miranda’s new assistant, Betty Cooper. Betty, I would like to introduce you to my lovely girlfriend, Cheryl Blossom.” She gave her such an adoring look Betty couldn’t help but smile.

Toni’s girlfriend was tall, slender, and definitely model pretty. The bright red hair paired with the attention grabbing red lipstick added a dramatic flare to the woman, who gave her a critical look over – a theme for the day, she noticed.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cheryl began, “but who helped you pick out your clothes? You didn’t wear that on your first day, did you?”

Toni nudged her in admonishment. “Cheryl.”

The redhead shrugged unapologetically, but her smile helped soften the blow. Only slightly though.

Betty laughed self-consciously. “Yeah, I did. My mom helped pick these out for me.”

Cheryl scoffed. “Mothers can be the worst, in more ways than just fashion. Don’t even get me started on mine.”

Betty’s eyes widened a little, nodding slowly, unsure what to really make of Toni’s girlfriend but not wanting to come across as rude. Thankfully, she was spared from replying when both Cheryl’s and Toni’s smartphones dinged with an incoming group text, prompting tempt to whip out their respective phones.

“Our friend is on her way up,” Toni explained after typing a quick reply and tucking her phone away.

“Do you want me to go let her in?” Betty asked, recalling Toni had done the same for Cheryl.

Toni shook her head. “It’s cool. Ronni knows her way up.”

Strange. During her interview, Betty was told that no one but staff and other personnel could gain entrance after hours without a pass. Maybe she was related to someone who worked there. That was a possibility.

Cheryl suggested that they head down to the spa and change into some robes, saying she would text this Ronni to let her know where they headed. A few minutes and two flights of stairs later, the three women stepped inside a large spacious locker room, though to call it a locker room would be doing the room a disservice. The ceilings were high and the walls paneled in sleek, elegant designs with marbled floors beneath their feet, hardly the equivalent to the locker rooms Betty had been inside. 

And holy God were those robes comfortable. The moment Betty slipped out of her clothes and into the robe, there was nothing more in this world she wanted than to stay dressed in it forever. Toni and Cheryl must have witnessed the blissful expression on her face, since they both laughed in solidarity. Toni told her she should take it when they left, assuring her repeatedly that Runway had more than enough money to cover it. In fact, pretty much everyone who visited the spa usually stole a robe and never returned it.

With their belongings securely stored, Betty followed Cheryl and Toni into the spa and was immediately overwhelmed by the immensity of it all. Between pedicure/manicure, facials, and massage stations, she had no idea where to start. And that was just on part of the room she was taking in.

Then she felt a light brush along her arm, even through the material of the robe. An all too familiar sultry voice accompanied it. “Fancy running into you here.”

Betty turned and her lips parted with surprise when she came face-to-face with none other than Veronica, the woman she had literally run into at Starbucks earlier that morning. Her memory had not done the raven-haired woman justice, who was now dressed in the very same robe, with presumably little underneath…

Whoa, woman. Betty pulled the brakes on that trail of thought, though she doubted it wouldn’t be too difficult for Veronica to figure it out, seeing as how she could feel the heat from her blush.

“So you’re Ronni?” Betty asked, knowing the question was silly but unable to help herself. 

Veronica laughed. “Yeah, that’s me. Gender ambiguous nicknames are kind of Toni’s thing. If you hadn’t noticed.”

Betty grinned. The sound of Veronica’s laughter was music to her ears, no matter how cliché that sounded. 

“Oh, good, you’ve met!” Toni exclaimed as she and Cheryl joined them. “Ronni, this is Betty Cooper, Miranda Priestley’s new assistant. Betty, this is Veronica Lodge. Her parents, Hiram and Hermione Lodge, own Lodge Industries, one of Manhattan’s most rapidly growing investment businesses.”

Veronica laughed again. “Really, Toni, my dad would steal you away from Miranda and hire you on the spot for the marketing department if you keep talking like that.”

The three women talked amongst themselves while Betty tried to process what was happening. Veronica, the woman she had only met this morning, was a Lodge. Miranda Priestly was having dinner with the Lodges tomorrow evening, Veronica’s parents, for talks of a potential merger, investment, or something of the kind.

This was an interesting turn of events Betty never saw coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry about the lack of updates. I haven't forgotten about this fic!! Between work and my beast of a Turn fic, this one sort of fell by the wayside. I'm almost finished with that fic, which means you should be getting more frequent updates here. I hope you enjoy <3

All in all, the spa night had gone over wonderfully. By the time, Betty returned home, she was perfectly scrubbed, rubbed down, and pampered properly straight into bed. She knew that if she continued to work at Runway – and she knew she had to for at least one year – she knew that she would have to take up Toni on her spa adventures every night, if she ever hoped to survive as Miranda’s junior assistant. 

Veronica Lodge lingered in her mind as she got herself ready for bed that night. Slipping into her ever faithful pajama bottoms and too large for her athletic form t-shirt, Betty remembered with perfect clarity how the raven haired woman seemed very much interested in getting to know her. 

She couldn’t imagine why, though, with Veronica Lodge apparently being Manhattan’s socialite darlings and an aspiring entrepreneur. When she had asked what she wanted to do, Veronica had confessed she hadn’t decided exactly what kind of business she wished to go into, only that she didn’t want to follow in her parents’ footsteps. She didn’t want to be known only for her family name. Betty respected that.

She also learned that Veronica was definitely a tactile person. Throughout the night, the other woman’s hands always managed to brush against her. When they were getting their manicures, Veronica reached for one of Betty’s hands to inspect the color, offering her murmuring appraisal of the color, her thumb gently brushing along her knuckles. Betty still felt the pleasant chills she had felt from her touch, especially when Veronica’s eyes met hers, her charming smile practically disarming. 

It was amazing how incredibly easy they had gotten along. Never had the blonde thought it was possible to become fast friends with someone you’d literally just met that day. That always seemed like a movie or TV show trope that never happened in real life, yet somehow it had. Right before the four women parted ways, Veronica and Betty entered their phone numbers in the other’s smartphone, all the while Betty promising at Veronica’s insistence that she would call to hang out sometime.

For some reason, that promise to hangout sounded more like a promise for a date, now that she thought about it. Not that she really minded of course.

\---

Betty’s second day at Runway was even worse than her first. It had started out decently enough. She greeted the doorman friendly as she arrived with Miranda’s coffee and waved at Toni when they crossed paths. As much as she wished to linger and chat, she didn’t want to risk being late with Miranda’s coffee order, so she headed directly for the elevator.

She arrived at the office with five minutes to spare. One her way over, she had already called and Postmated Miranda’s breakfast from her favorite restaurant so that it would arrive just in time for Miranda’s breakfast at 8:00 A.M. It was always best to think ahead, a lesson she was beginning to learn rather quickly. 

Six-thirty five came and went with no sign of Miranda. Even after Emily’s arrival, Betty occasionally poked her over her desk to see if their boss had come at all for her coffee. Every time she looked, the Starbucks cup remained where she had placed it. Sighing to herself, she made a note to herself to text the Starbucks barista for another Miranda order.

It was nearly eight by the time the breakfast arrived. Betty quickly plated the meal to Miranda’s strictly particular specifications and set it on her desk. She had just returned to her own by the time the boss strolled in, ever the picture of elegance, grace, and commanding presence. 

“Your breakfast is waiting for you…” Betty began but was cut off by the wave of a regal hand.

“I’d already eaten breakfast at home,” Miranda sniffed. “Honestly, Emily, you should remember. I told you had a breakfast meeting this morning.”

Betty’s mouth opened to assure her that she didn’t in fact tell her anything of the sort, but one quick warning glare from Emily across the room silenced her. She sat back down with an inelegant plop. Stealing a glance at her computer clock helplessly, she noted it was only five minutes after eight. Fighting the urge to bury her head in her arms, she buckled down and prepared herself for yet another day at Runway.

The rest of the day mostly consisted of running Miranda’s errands. As much as she appreciated being away from the office, running around the busy streets of Manhattan. And unfortunately, she had given into her mother’s insistence on wearing heels. Picking up scarves, delivering and receiving packages from designers, both personal and retail, meeting Miranda’s dog sitter, coupled with dropping off and retrieving not only her dry cleaning but the twins’ dry cleaning as well, among various other tasks, Betty became the epitome of the Energizer bunny. By the time she returned to the office, it was late afternoon, and she now had her own red bottom shoes, except the red wasn’t on the bottom except in her soles. She hadn’t even had her fifteen minute lunch break yet.

“Where have you been?” Emily hissed the moment she returned.

Betty stared at her while unceremoniously dropping armful of bags onto the floor. “I was picking up Miranda’s dry cleaning, among other things. What do you mean…”

Emily quickly cut her off. “Miranda’s been buzzing me for the past hour, asking where you were. She’s asking about the twins’ Europe agenda.” She looked at Betty expectantly, raising her eyebrows.

Betty stared at her, mentally counting to ten, before carefully choosing her next words. “Emily, I haven’t stopped since…”

“Emily!” the shrill voice of their employer drew both women up short. “Is that you? I need to speak with you immediately.”

Swallowing her nerves and irritation, Betty walked into Miranda’s office, sitting down across from her only when prompted. 

Not even seconds later, she proceeded to get hammered about the twins’ European trip schedule and their itemized list, if it had been completed yet. Reminding herself to breathe, she began to explain to her that she hadn’t been able to begin, not without more information. She wanted to further explain that she had been running errands, but Miranda refused to hear a word of it.

“If you don’t get me a copy of the agenda by early tomorrow morning, Emily,” Miranda informed her frostily, “I will be extremely disappointed. And I don’t take kindly to disappointment.”

The thinly veiled implication of being fired was far too clear. Clenching her hands into fists to prevent them from trembling, Betty nodded, growing pale, before returning to her desk. With little to no information to go on, she began work on a preliminary outline of an agenda of which she had no fucking information on. All she could do was guess work. 

She did her research, beginning with the twins’ school site, searching for any information pertaining to the Europe trip. Thankfully, that was a great help and gave her a much better idea of what to go on. She even called the school and spoke with the program coordinator, asking for flight information and everything else she could. Once she gathered all the main information, she set to work on organizing her notes into one Word document, prompting saving it to her jump drive and emailing herself a copy, mostly for her own personal sanity in the hope she wouldn’t lose it. 

With that progress completed at least, Betty turned to Emily, hesitantly asking if the twins’ had any particular designers/brands in mind for luggage, clothes, and other necessities for the trip. That went about as well as could be expected. Emily simply brushed her off, telling her that anything brands that were popular with kids these days were the safest bet. But going through all of the latest brands and trends, it was impossible to know what the twins liked versus what Miranda would find acceptable, and judging from the lack of instruction from their boss, she doubted she would receive any further help.

Miranda left the office around four-fifteen for the day. As soon as her car had driven around the block, everyone felt it safe to leave for the day as well, save for Betty, who remained hopelessly typing away at her computer. She nibbled on some smuggled junk food from a vending machine she had discovered, amazed that there was one in the building at all. She’d ignored the disapproving looks she received when she bought a packet of Cheese-Its and a can of Sprite. Soothing her hunger was her main priority, something that everyone else hear seemed to not comprehend.

It was a little past six when Betty’s phone began to ring. She was barely aware of it at first, so absorbed in her work that she nearly missed it. Glancing away from her computer screen, she noticed Veronica’s name lighting up the screen. Her heart skipped a beat. She answered it immediately.

“Hello?” Betty greeted, doing her best to suppress a yawn. 

Only clearly she hadn’t been successful, seeing as Veronica observed with surprise, “You’re still at the office? I’ve heard everyone got off early today.”

Betty started. “How did you… oh, Toni and Cheryl.” Running a hand through her ponytail, she leaned back into her seat. “Ah, as much as I would’ve loved to get out early, I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got something pretty pressing that needs my full attention.”

She could practically hear the pout in the other woman’s voice and found it undeniably appealing. “Can it wait until tomorrow? I was calling to invite you for a night out on the town. Remember that restaurant we were talking about?”

“Pop’s?” Betty asked after a few seconds to recall. Pop’s resided a few miles outside city limits. A small diner, it was very reminiscent of the 1950s and drew in quite a crowd on the weekends especially. It had that certain classic All-American feel that hadn’t been disturbed even with time. Just thinking about Pop’s had her craving a strawberry milkshake and a hearty burger. Her stomach growled audibly in agreement. “You have no idea how good that sounds right now.”

Veronica chuckled softly. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Then Betty sighed regretfully. “But I can’t tonight. I need to get this done by early tomorrow morning otherwise…” she stopped herself short. She didn’t want to burden the woman she just met with her work woes.

But Veronica prodded gently, “Otherwise…?”

After a few minutes of hesitation, the blonde confessed, “Otherwise I think I’m going to lose my job.”

There was a pause across the line, long enough for Betty to check and see if the call hadn’t been dropped, but no Veronica was still there. “Wait. What? Didn’t you tell me you just started working for Miranda yesterday?”

Betty leaned back even further into her seat, closing her eyes tiredly. “Yes.”

“And you’re afraid of losing your job already? What on earth happened?” Veronica demanded, disbelief shining through. There was also more than a little hint of protectiveness that suddenly made the blonde feel warm all over.

Before she knew what she was doing, Betty found herself venting about the past two days during her time at Runway, which lasted quite a while. When she finally managed to bring her rant to a close, she apologized, “I know. I’m pathetic. On day two and I’m already complaining, complaining about a job a million girls would kill for. I’m ungrateful, aren’t I? Not only that, I’m incompetent. Go ahead and say it.”

“No,” Veronica remarked softly. “You’re not ungrateful nor incompetent. I’ve seen this before. Miranda… can easily break anyone’s spirit with a casual glance. I swear, that woman would make Daenerys Targaryen tremble for mercy.”

Betty snorted out a laugh. She brought up a hand to the back of her neck, throwing a glance at the clock. It was fifteen minutes to seven now. Would she ever be able to finish this work in time?

“I should be really getting back to work,” she spoke regretfully. And then, she dared to take a risk, her lips quirking upwards, “Though I’d much rather be talking to you all night than working on this, truth be told.”

Veronica hummed thoughtfully, and Betty hoped she was smiling. “I think I have a way to rectify this. Do you have everything you’re working on saved already.”

“Definitely. I’m so paranoid, I’ve printed everything out along with putting stuff on my jump drive and email.”

“Good. I’m going to have a car pull up at Runway in fifteen. I’ll bring my laptop with me,” Veronica remarked. She sounded as if she were already moving.

Betty frowned in confusion. “Why…”

“We’re going to Pop’s. It’s open 24 hours, which gives us plenty of time to work on the twin’s agenda, plus the food is amazing. I’ve gone to a similar school and have been on similar trips. I’ve got an idea of the appropriate checklists. We can share what we have and come up with something to present to your boss tomorrow morning.”

Sitting up straighter, Betty asked quietly, amazed, “That’s incredible of you, really, but why would you help me? We only just met?”

It took only a few seconds for Veronica to reply, “I like to help my friends whenever I can. And no one is allowed to mess with anyone that I care about, especially not my Betty Cooper.” She could’ve sworn she heard her smile on the other end of the line. “See you in fifteen, B.” 

The call ended with a quiet beep.


End file.
